A Glimpse into the Future
by Disco-Freak
Summary: Five years after Maeve has been banished, the Mystic Knights are required to band together once again, not only to save the people of Kells, but each other. Romance, action, humour, drama, the whole shebang. R&R please, I love feedback!
1. Prologue: Five Years Later

Disclaimer: I do not own the Mystic Knights, Saban does. I do not have the rights to the characters, settings, past plots, or any of it. The only things I have are my own characters, settings and plots in this story, as well as a love for Irish mythology. Please don't sue me!

Nearly five years had passed since the banishment of Queen Maeve, leaving the Mystic Knights and the remainder of Kells in peace, at least for the time being. Numaine's empty threats had been forgotten, along with Numaine herself. Not a word had been spoken of Kells' past enemies, and the current ruler of Temra – King Rohan – posed no threat to Kells. If anything, Rohan had bettered the relationship between the two kingdoms to the point that they had almost combined into one larger empire. Still unable to come to terms with the idea of being in direct relation to Maeve, Rohan spent the majority of his time aimlessly wandering the border between Kells and Temra, hoping to forget any thoughts of his bloodline.

While the end of the seemingly incessant war relieved the people of Kells, the army had become restless. Shortly after Maeve's banishment, commander Uuan had grown tired of playing babysitter to his unruly soldiers and announced his resign to King Conchobar. The king, who had hoped to replace Uuan with Rohan, was understanding of Rohan's birthright and could not have him as the new Captain of the Guard. Much to his and Cathbad's dismay, the only man fit to be in charge of the Kells army was Angus, as both Ivar and Garrett we born to different kingdoms and Deirdre was the Princess of Kells. Surprisingly enough, Angus took his position rather seriously and took charge of the army, though he still managed to find himself in trouble from time to time.

Ivar and Garrett had returned to their respective homelands for a brief period of time, only to return to Kells because of a special bond to the kingdom and its citizens. Ivar brought his sacred chalice back to his kingdom with great praise from his parents and older brother, but as he was not the eldest of his siblings, he had no claim to the throne and therefore no reason to linger as a Prince to his people. Garrett on the other hand was the first-born in his family, but his father's health showed great promise like his father's before that and Garrett would not inherit the throne until later in his life. Both men played advisor to King Conchobar, at the same time traveling back and forth to Temra to see how Rohan was coming along as King.

Unlike the other Mystic Knights, Princess Deirdre was less than happy with her current lifestyle. She longed for adventure as she once had when Kells was under attack by Maeve. Now that Kells was no longer threatened daily with the prospect of war, Deirdre found herself bored being a princess. She and Rohan had yet to confess their love for one another, though the other knights saw through their emotions like a thin veil.

Unfortunately, King Conchobar's health had lately been failing him and he feared that his end was coming. Deirdre had convinced herself that her father would soon get well again, but the rest of Kells had lost hope for their beloved King. Conchobar, while afraid of the concept of death, felt that since Kells and Temra were finally at peace, he was leaving Deirdre the kingdom at an opportune time. Little did he know that his passing would come at a time where the Mystic Knights would be needed once again, and the throne of both Kells and Temra would be at risk…

Author's Note: More will be up shortly, I hope you enjoy it! R&R!


	2. Chapter One: The Time Has Come

Disclaimer: I do not own the Mystic Knights, Saban does. I do not have the rights to the characters, settings, past plots, or any of it. The only things I have are my own characters, settings and plots in this story, as well as a love for Irish mythology. Please don't sue me!

For Princess Deirdre, the past week or so had been a very trying one at best. The people of Kells had all started to believe that King Conchobar's days were limited at best, but Deirdre could not grasp the reality upon her. Day after day, Deirdre sat on a regal maroon chair next to her father's bed, waiting for him to once again get well. Apart from the sound of the King's slow and unsteady breathing, a thick silence had penetrated the room.

Deirdre shifted uncomfortably in her seat as her father let out a soft moan. Through the window, a strip of sunlight shone across the King's face. For the first time, Deirdre took notice of his thinning hair, which was turning from a rich brown to a dull grey. The wrinkles around his closed eyes had become more defined in recent years; Conchobar no longer had the look of a strong and powerful King – he now gave the impression of a weakened old man. She leaned towards her father's bed, softly placing her hand over his own.

At the touch of their skin, Conchobar's body let out a tremble. He wearily turned his head to face that of his daughter's and opened his eyes so that he could focus on the young woman before him. Smiling weakly, he took a heavy breath and tiredly spoke, though his words were barely audible.

"I see you haven't left my side."

"Nor will I, Father. You need strength from those around you to get well," Deirdre replied, gently squeezing her father's worn hand. King Conchobar lay in silence again, still focused on Deirdre. His feeble smile remained, however the little colour in his cheeks drained. His daughter had so much confidence in him, though he knew it was false hope.

"Deirdre," he started, his voice getting even softer.

"Yes, Father?"

"I will not get well."

Silence entered the room once again. Deirdre felt as if the hush had filled her lungs with a kind of poison, and her heart dropped. Realization struck her. The beloved King of Kells was going to die. Her father was going to die. Shakily, Deirdre moved from the wooden chair onto the side of Conchobar's bed, still grasping his hand.

"I'm not ready, Father."

"I believe you are."

"I'm not ready to be a Queen! I still have so much to learn, I cannot fill your shoes yet, please don't leave me!" With her free hand, Deirdre brushed a salty tear off of her face.

"You will not fill my shoes, Deirdre," the King started calmly, "You will provide your own means to lead this Kingdom."

"You are a great King, father. I can only hope to be half as honorable as you, I'll never be loved by our people the way you have," Deirdre said, feeling yet another tear trickling down her cheek. Like the other, she brushed it away, ashamed that she was shedding tears in front of her father.

"I forbid you to say such a thing!" Deidre froze, inhaling a sharp breath. Conchobar had not raised his voice, but his tone had changed from comforting to stern. "You are already loved by our people. As a Mystic Knight, you have proven your worth and devotion to Kells time and time again. The people of Kells respect you, just as much as they do me. As Queen of Kells, you need to remember this. You need to remain confident in your abilities. You cannot compare your achievements to my own, as we are entirely different people. The way you command Kells will be of your own deciding, and I wish for you to be happy with every decision you make. Every choice is something to be proud of, and if you are able to support yourself and your ideals, then you have already done as much as I have for you and for your kingdom. Do you understand me?"

Deirdre nodded, taking a deep breath. The king gazed at his daughter. He still saw her as the precocious child she once was, but her knew she had matured in her years. He smiled at her, proud of the woman she had become. Scared like she had been when her mother died, Deirdre lay down beside her father, pulling herself close and wrapping her arm around his chest. Another tear dripped down her face, this time landing on the warm comforter that wrapped they dying King.

"I don't want you to die."

"Alas, nor do I, my jewel. However, my time has come."

Conchobar slowly closed his eyes, taking in every second he had left with his daughter. At last, the King drew his last breath, and Deirdre was left alone.

Author's Note: This story will not be particularly sad once it gets going. This chapter I found incredibly depressing, but it had to be written. Also, the other characters will be joining in soon! R&R!


	3. Chapter Two: Storms are Brewing

Disclaimer: I do not own the Mystic Knights, Saban does. I do not have the rights to the characters, settings, past plots, or any of it. The only things I have are my own characters, settings and plots in this story, as well as a love for Irish mythology. Please don't sue me!

…

Mere moments after her father's death, Princess Deirdre summoned a maid, left her father's bedside, and walked briskly to the throne-room. Her eyes were puffy and red, and her cheeks tear-stained, though she kept herself together for her kingdom. As she made her way down the dim castle hallways, guards peered around corners, silently observing their future queen. Deirdre took no notice of their glances. At this instant, nothing was important to her. The King of Kells, her father, was dead and nothing else mattered.

By the time Deirdre had arrived in the throne-room, she had grown very weak at the knees and felt a sudden urge to sit down. Her first impulse was to sit in her usual chair, placed next the majestic gold and red throne, but she then remembered that as Queen, it was her right to have the throne for herself. Deirdre paused, and then took a seat beside where her father might have been seated, had he still been alive and well. With her elbow on the arm of the chair, she rested her head in the palm of her hand and closed her eyes. No thoughts ran through her mind, no emotions. For the first time since the death of her mother, Deirdre felt nothing but emptiness.

Not long after Deirdre's arrival in the throne-room, a very somber Cathbad entered the throne-room with Princess Deirdre. With him, he brought Angus, Ivar, and Garrett, all of whom looked remorseful and solemn. All four of them stood just inside the doorway, their eyes downcast, but each stole the occasional glance at their friend and fellow Mystic Knight – now Queen of Kells.

After a few seconds of silence, Deirdre noticed the presence of her friends in the room and looked up. It was as if nobody knew what to say, so everyone just stayed put. Except for Ivar.

Crossing the throne-room with an air of purpose, Ivar strode towards Deirdre, who was now standing up. When he finally reached her, he held his arms out and embraced her in a firm hug. Without a word, Cathbad left the room, knowing that Deirdre had all the comfort she would need for the next while at least. Angus and Garrett approached the other two, stopping just short of where Deirdre and Ivar stood. After what seemed like an eternity, Deirdre stepped away from Ivar and looked at the other two. Garrett was the next to step forward.

"We are so sorry for your loss, Prin…" He stumbled over the word and instead chose a new one, "Milady. If there is anything I can do for you, please let me know." Deirdre smiled sadly at Garrett, knowing that he had been nothing but pleasant to Kells in the recent years.

"There is one thing you can do for me, Garrett." Garrett's eyes widened and he tilted his head downwards, indicating for her to continue. "I would like you to ask Rohan to return to Kells. For a few days at least. Please?"

Garrett bowed his head and took Deirdre's hand.

"As you wish, milady." With that, he kissed Deirdre's delicate palm and turned towards the door, walking quickly towards the exit of the castle.

Angus watched Garrett leave, but Ivar turned to join him.

"Prince Garrett should have company on this journey; these are trying times. I will go with him if you'll permit it, my Queen," Ivar said, bowing his head with respect to Deirdre.

"I am not your Queen, Ivar," Deirdre said firmly. Ivar looked up as Deirdre continued, "I am your equal. And please, go with him. Nobody should be alone tonight." Ivar nodded, brushed off his royal blue garments and left without another word. This left Deirdre and Angus alone in the throne-room.

Once again feeling weak in the knees, Deirdre sat back down in her chair, sitting up straight and crossing one leg over another. Her back was perfectly straight, as though she was to have a portrait painted. She looked exceptionally regal.

"There's no need to be proper, Deirdre. I won't tell," Angus grinned, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow at her.

Deirdre signed and rolled her eyes, letting her posture slump a little. Surprisingly enough, she felt more relaxed. She supposed it was because he didn't care if her image as a royal slipped here and there. Still, she wasn't prepared to say much. Angus took notice of her silence, sat on the step beside her chair and proceeded to speak again.

"For someone going through so much right now, ye look pretty good." Deirdre looked at him confused – he was never much for offering compliments.

"Really?" Angus smirked mischievously.

"Nah." Deirdre slapped him hard across the upper arm, causing Angus to yelp in pain and rub his sore shoulder. "Just kidding. Ye look beautiful, Deirdre."

Deirdre let out a sigh and sank from the seat of her chair down to the step so that she and Angus were at the same level. She drew her knees towards her chest and leaned on Angus. He instinctively put an arm around her and held her close. He could feel her breathing deeply; her breaths would choke up every-so-often and the occasional tear would fall, but she didn't say a word.

…

Through word of mouth, Rohan got the news of King Conchobar's death less than a day after his passing. He set for Kells at once, racing on horseback through the rocky terrain and forests along the kingdoms' borders. The sky was full of ominous-looking clouds, and Rohan could tell that a storm was fast approaching. He quickly scanned the skyline, creasing his brow. The impending storm had come in unnaturally quickly. Rohan felt uneasy as he continued his journey to the castle of Kells, he braced himself for a potential attack, but none came. Instead, he crossed paths with two of his old friends from Kells.

"Ivar! Garrett!"

The two princes heard Rohan calling, and reared their horses. Galloping towards him, the princes shouted Rohan's name in return, wide smiles on their handsome faces. The three hadn't seen each other in at least a month, but it felt as if it were much longer than that. Rohan motioned to the sky, his friends looking up at the gloomy clouds.

"We'd better get back to Kells before the storm hits, or we'll be in for quite the beating. The wind shows no mercy in this area."

Ivar nodded, kicking the side of his horse so that it started to run. Rohan and Garrett followed closely behind, all the while keeping a close eye on the clouds above them.

…

The minutes that Angus and Deirdre spent sitting on the floor of the throne-room turned into hours. Barely any words were exchanged, but Angus thought it best to stay with his friend until she was able to calm her spirits. Deirdre had fallen asleep on the thief turned Mystic Knight turned Captain of the Guard's shoulder once her crying had subsided, but Angus didn't dare move. He knew he had to be there for his friend in her time of grief, so left to his own thoughts, he also drifted into a shallow slumber.

Cathbad had been watching the two Mystic Knights from the peephole in his chamber. Despite her tear-stained cheeks and red eyes, Deirdre looked much the same as she always had, as if she hadn't aged a day. Her personality hadn't changed all that much either. She still took charge in every situation she could and refused to step away from any situation because she was a woman. Cathbad admired her for her bravery, but felt as though she needed to get moving with her life. As the Queen, she needed to find herself a suitable husband and produce an heir to the throne. Deirdre however, would never do this without love – yet another admirable quality of hers.

Though he felt no great fondness for the former thief, even Cathbad had to admit that the boy had matured into a respectable young man in the past few years. His looks had remained the same, though his hair was shorter and he had grown light stubble, making him seem slightly more distinguished. Along with the positive changes in his life, Angus had of course found himself more attractive to maidens in Kells, but refused to commit to more than a night with any of them. Cathbad particularly disliked this, along with Deirdre, Rohan and Ivar. Garrett on the other hand found Angus' new lifestyle particularly interesting, though he would never test it out himself.

But alas, Cathbad said kept his thoughts to himself. He had developed a sense of pride for the young men and woman, as they had all done better than Cathbad could have hoped – at least Angus had done better. The others were expected to do well and succeeded, and that was all the druid could ask for.

A sudden crack of thunder sounded. Cathbad hurried over to the window, gazing at the dark grey sky. The rain began to pour down with lightning striking every couple of seconds. Something was not right in Kells, especially now that the King was dead. He hoped that Ivar and Garrett would be returning to Kells with Rohan shortly.

…

Author's Note: This chapter was a little bit more lighthearted, considering the last, but it was still depressing my beyond belief. Fortunately, the humor in the story will be picking up, along with the plot. I hope you like it! R&R!


	4. Chapter Three: The Coronation

**Chapter Three – The Coronation**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Mystic Knights, Saban does. I do not have the rights to the characters, settings, past plots, or any of it. The only things I have are my own characters, settings and plots in this story, as well as a love for Irish mythology. Please don't sue me!

…

The storm had hit and was in full blast by the time Rohan, Ivar and Garrett had arrived back at the throne-room, fully drenched. By the, Cathbad had wandered from his chamber through the castle, finding Angus and Deirdre awake and talking, but still sitting on the step below Deirdre's throne. Cathbad cleared his throat pointedly; Deirdre abruptly stood up and returned to the burgundy chair beside the throne. Angus took longer to get up, muttering something about "grumpy old people" under his breath.

The door to the throne-room burst open, revealing the remaining Mystic Knights, dripping with water. Ivar and Garrett both nodded at Deirdre and joined Angus off to the side of the room, while Rohan took lengthy strides directly towards the Queen of Kells. His expression told of his heartfelt regret for the King's passing, but at the same time his happiness to finally reunite with the love of his life. Rohan started to lower himself into a bow, but Deirdre stopped him before he could finish.

"Stop!" Deirdre looked around the room at each of her friends individually. "I am not your Queen, and none of you will ever have a need to bow to me."

A drawn out pause followed. None of the Knights knew what to say to each other. They all knew that this day would come, but had blocked out the possibility of the King's death. They all knew that Deirdre was to be made Queen the following morning.

…

Deirdre didn't open her eyes throughout the entire ceremony. She waited until there was a crown upon her head to look at the crowd in front of her. They were the people of Kells, the citizens of her country and her friends. Seeing the other Mystic Knights' supportive faces was the only thing holding her together, but despite their support, they looked anxious.

…

Rohan observed Deirdre from the time she entered the throne room for the coronation to the end as she purposefully walked back to her chamber. He knew that she was distraught by her father's passing, and he felt that she was handling the devastating news rather well. He also felt that Deirdre would make an incredible Queen of Kells.

As the Knights and other citizens and nobles left the throne room, Rohan quietly snuck away from the crowd and headed for the new Queen's chamber. There was something that needed to be discussed and had been overlooked for quite far too long.

Once he reached Deirdre's bedroom, Rohan softly knocked on the large wooden door, hoping that Deirdre would be in the mood for some company for a while. There was no answer, but Rohan was not discouraged. He knocked a little louder.

"My Queen?" Rohan called out confidently, still having not stopped knocking on her door. "Your Highness? Are you there?"

Deirdre heard him on the other side of the door, but she refused to be called upon so formally by her friend. In her mind, she was no Queen. She was just a girl whose father had passed away.

After a few more seconds, Rohan stopped tapping on the door. "Deirdre?"

Rohan heard a shuffle of feet walking towards the door, but still no other sounds. The door handle didn't move.

"Deirdre? Please talk to me."

The door opened a crack, revealing a shaken Deirdre looking up into the eyes of the man she loved. "Yes?"

"Deirdre, may I come in?"

Deirdre opened the door wide enough to invite in Rohan. He stepped inside and shut the door behind him, then walking toward the bed to have a seat.

"I'm sorry about your father, Deirdre," Rohan said, staring directly into her eyes. He had forgotten just how beautiful they were.

"Don't be sorry. It was his time, I suppose," Deirdre replied, finding herself trying to avoid his gaze.

"You are going to make a wonderful Queen –" Rohan started, but Deirdre cut him off quickly and stood up, opening the door for Rohan to leave.

"I do not wish to discuss this, Rohan. Have you any other business?"

"Just hear me out, Deirdre. I swear, I won't be long."

Deirdre sighed and closed the door. "Fine."

"You are going to make a wonderful Queen. You are a strong, smart, beautiful woman, and you are a born leader. I know that you look at your father and think that you could never be as good a ruler as he was, because he was a great ruler. But Deirdre, please understand that you are your father's daughter. You have so many of his qualities, and I think that you will do just as well as your father did. In fact, I think you may actually do a better job than he did. You really understand the people of Kells, and they look up to you. And you deserve that. Every fine ruler does. You are a fine ruler Deirdre, a better one than I could ever hope to be."

Deirdre blinked tears back and looked at Rohan. "You are the best thing that has ever happened to Temra. They needed someone like you. The people there are finally happy, and that's because of you." Rohan smiled.

"I know a way that Temra could prosper even more than they are now, but I need your help," Rohan said. Deirdre raised her eyebrows and waited for him to continue.

"Marry me."

…

Author's Note: Sorry it took so long to write, and sorry it's so short! I've been crazy busy, and it didn't help that I had some serious writer's block going on. I haven't forgotten about this story, and another chapter should be up within a week!


	5. Chapter Four: Dialogues

**Chapter Four – Dialogues**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Mystic Knights, Saban does. I do not have rights to the characters, settings, past plots, or any of it. The only things I have are my own characters, settings and plots in this story, as well as a love for Irish mythology. Please don't sue me!

…

"_Marry me."_ These were the words that Rohan had spoken to Deirdre just moments after her coronation, and just two days after the King's death.

Deirdre said nothing and stared. Finally, she blinked and whispered, "Excuse me?"

Rohan paused, thinking that this probably wasn't the most opportune time to express his undying love for the Queen sitting before him. Instead, he launched into a practical explanation for his sudden proposal, hoping to appeal to Deirdre's diplomatic side. "I believe that bringing our kingdoms together would have a great benefit and offer the peace that we have been looking for. Having our nations band together could strengthen both of our forces and even join our separate allies."

"No!" Deirdre snapped, enraged. "If I felt that marrying for the sake of Kells was a way to create peace, I would have married Prince Garrett years ago."

Rohan sighed. "You knew nothing about him at the time, and Rheged is already an ally of Kells'. Besides, I've wanted to –"

"Rohan," Deirdre barked, opening the door and motioning for him to leave, "I thought that you of all people would understand my sentiments regarding marriage."

"I do, milady –"

"And the terms between Kells and Temra are just fine. Please inform me of any changes in that, I wouldn't want to have your precious kingdom invading unannounced. Good day."

"But milady –"

"It's Deirdre. And I said, get out."

…

After the coronation, Angus made his way back to his hut that he used to share with Rohan, thinking about what had gone on since Rohan had left for Temra. While he liked living by himself and didn't miss Rohan's untidy habits, Angus occasionally missed his best friend's company and often found himself lonely. That may have been the reason why he brought s many maidens back with him, so that he could fill the void. Then again, maybe he just enjoyed the company of women.

On the way to his hut, Angus caught sight of a girl hastily picking up apples from the ground and placing them in a basket from which they had fallen. The girl, who looked about nineteen, was quite pretty, so Angus decided to give her a hand.

"Hello there. Need a hand?"

The girl looked him up and down and raised an eyebrow. "No," she said bluntly, and continued placing apples in the basket. Angus blinked.

"Are ye sure , because –"

"I am." She smiled and returned to the basket, finally filling it to the brim with the fallen apples. Angus still hadn't stopped starting.

"I'm Angus, by the way. I'm the Commander here in Kells."

"I know."

Angus paused, then said "Ye know?"

"Yes."

"That was an invitation for yer name before. When I gave ye mine, I mean."

The girl smiled again.

"I know." There was yet another pause.

"Well?"

"Well, I think I'd better be going. It's been nice meeting you, Angus, Commander of Kells." And with that, she turned away, and began walking back towards a small cluster of huts. Angus had a very stunned look on his face and called after her.

"I'd say it was nice meeting ye too, if you'd have given me yer name!"

The girl looked back over her shoulder and smirked., then looked ahead of her again and kept walking.

…

Princes Garrett and Ivar stood calmly on the outskirts of Kells forest. They had just left Deirdre's coronation and had both decided that they needed a breath of fresh air. Since the night before when the storm had rolled in, the rain had stopped, but the skies still remained ominous and threatening.

"I am very worried about the effect of King Conchobar's death on the Queen," Ivar said softly, looking up at the sky.

"Why would you say that?"

"I fear that she may let her emotions take a toll on her decisions. Kells may be prospering as of late, but Queen Deirdre is in no state to run a kingdom. Her decisions may become rash, and Kells will more than likely suffer because of her gloom."

Garrett looked at Ivar inquisitively. "Since Maeve's defeat, Kells hasn't had many challenges. Do you really think that Deirdre's sadness could provoke some sort of attack?"

Ivar didn't answer his friend. Garrett took his silence as a yes, and walked towards a fallen log closer to the edge of the forest. He took a seat on the rotting trunk and stared into the clouds above him, much like his comrade. The two didn't speak another word for a long while, neither of them shifting their gaze up at the clouds. The sound of a hawk could be heard in the distance, but the fog stopped it from coming into view. Ivar spoke again, this time much more clearly. "The skies are becoming more and more thick. Kells may be at peace now, but we must be prepared for the darkness that awaits us."

…

Author's Note: There's another one for those of you who are reading. I'll have another up shortly; I've just got to make a final decision on what's going to happen! Read and review, please!


	6. Chapter Five: An Approaching Ship

**Chapter Five – An Approaching Ship**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Mystic Knights, Saban does. I do not have the rights to the characters, settings, past plots, or any of it. The only things I have are my own characters, settings and plots in this story, as well as a love for Irish mythology. Please don't sue me!

…

Ivar made his way to the Kells castle the following morning. While patrolling the border by the water, he had seen white sails approaching the shore. The flag on the boat was unknown to him, making Ivar slightly uneasy, as he knew himself to be quite worldly. An unfamiliar flag rarely indicated an ally, and Ivar felt himself fearing for the safety of Kells.

As he neared the castle gate, Ivar spotted Rohan untying his horse. No one had seen him since the coronation, and he looked fairly distressed. Ivar approached his friend and caught his attention by clapping a hand on his back.

"Leaving so soon?"

"I must be getting back to Temra," Rohan said, avoiding Ivar's gaze. "I shouldn't be making so many trips to Kells. Temra is my home now, and the people there depend on me."

"I see." Rohan swung his leg over the horse and tightened his grip on the reins, but Ivar wasn't about to let him leave so easily. "Something happened between you and the Queen, yes?"

Rohan looked further away from his friend and didn't answer. Without looking back, he kicked the side of his horse. Ivar watched him ride off into the distance, all the while hoping that nothing had happened between him and Deirdre. Now of all times was not the moment for a disagreement.

Shrugging back his shoulders, Ivar walked through the castle gate. Once he made inside, he spotted Deirdre sitting in the throne room with a glum look on her face. Ivar let out a sigh and entered the room. He gave a small smile to the Queen and approached her, bowing deeply once he was in front of her.

"Good morning, Your Highness," Ivar said, looking up at her.

"Deirdre," Deirdre said, crossing one leg over the other. She knew that Ivar meant well by calling her 'Your Highness', as it was only polite, but at the same time, she hated it.

"Deirdre," Ivar said calmly. "A ship approaches Kells."

Deirdre blinked. "A ship? From where?"

"I know not. The flag was foreign to me."

"Do you think them to be friends?" Deirdre asked, a look of worry crossing her face.

"I have my doubts, but I can't be sure."

Deirdre bit her lip and subconsciously lifted one hand to her crown, adjusting it on her head slightly. She immediately thought of her father and what he would have done in such an event. She felt her eyes beginning to water, and quickly brought up another subject to Ivar.

"Ivar, could you please fetch Angus for me?"

"Of course." And with a nod, Ivar had left the room, leaving Deirdre to her thoughts.

…

Ivar found Angus in the courtyard five minutes later at a training session with the Kells army. As Ivar suspected, not all that much training was happening. In reality, they were standing around talking about the most attractive maidens in Kells. And really, Kells had barely had any need for an army in the past four years, so it was justified.

"Angus!"

Angus looked over his shoulder and saw Ivar jogging towards him. He looked back at the soldiers before him and rolled his eyes.

"Come on Ivar, I'm working. It's Commander Angus."

"Then it's Prince Ivar to you," Ivar laughed, raising his eyebrows. "And I don't see much 'commanding' going on, oh Powerful One."

Angus grinned and looked back at the soldiers before him. "You heard the man, get off yer arses and pick up a sword!" He turned his attention to Ivar. "What's going on?"

"There is a ship approaching the border of Kells from an unknown land."

"An ally?"

"Perhaps. They have yet to arrive, but we must be prepared in case of an attack."  
Angus sighed loudly, running a hand back through his dark hair. He looked at the Kells army, who were practicing their swordplay one on one. They weren't particularly skilled, and not at all ready for battle.

"Men!" The soldiers slowly stopped fighting and steered their attention to the Mystic Knights of Earth. "When I say 'pick up a sword,' I expect all of ye to fight like you mean it!"

A young boy stepped forward. He looked about sixteen with light brown hair and chocolate-coloured eyes, and a lanky frame. "Commander, we could fight if we wanted to."

"Oh really?" Angus challenged, putting his hands on his hips.

"Yes."

"Ah. And what's yer name, Cu Chulainn? Because I hear that Draganta is taken."

The boy's face flushed with embarrassment. "Ciáran."

"Well Ciáran, I hope yer good enough to best a Mystic Knight," Angus said, while slowly drawing his sword. The boy, who was one of the smallest of the soldiers slumped slightly and his eyes widened at the prospect of being challenged.

Ivar saw where this was going and tapped Angus on the shoulder. "Angus, the reason why I came was because the Queen sent for you. She would like to see you in the throne room straight away."

Angus looked back at Ciáran and released his sword with a small smirk on his face. "I want ye all training while I talk with the Queen. When I come back, I expect that young Ciáran will be prepared for a small duel with his Commander. From now on, I want none of ye questioning my judgment." And with that, he turned and left for the throne room with Ivar in tow.

…

The two knights arrived in the throne room shortly after the scene in the courtyard. Deirdre stood from her throne and briskly walked towards Ivar and Angus with a panicked look on her face.

"Angus! Are the troops ready for battle?"

Angus diverted his gaze slightly to avoid Deirdre's eyes. "They could be better."

Deirdre pursed her lips. "Did Ivar tell you about the ship on the border?"

Angus nodded. "He said that we don't know for sure if they're enemies."

"But the army isn't prepared?"

Ivar stepped in. "I suggest that Angus and I do what we can for the time being. Maybe Garrett would be willing to help as well."

"I'll help as well," Deirdre added. Angus and Ivar went to object, but Deirdre shook her head "I need to get out of this throne room. Besides, you'll need all the help you can get."

"We best start now," Ivar said. "The ship is only a few hours off shore."

…

Author's Note: This chapter took a really long time for me to get up. I had some crazy writer's block going on, but hopefully that's gone for good. Enjoy it, then read and review, please!


	7. Chapter Six: New Connections

**Chapter Six – New Connections**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Mystic Knights, Saban does. I do not have the rights to the characters, settings, past plots, or any of it. The only things I have are my own characters, settings and plots in this story, as well as a love for Irish mythology. Please don't sue me!

…

As Deirdre, Ivar, and Angus were about to leave the castle, they saw Garrett and beckoned him to join them. Together, the four rode on horseback towards the border in silence. As they approached the shore, the ship with a strange blue and yellow flag continued towards them, the water becoming more and more shallow. Finally, the ship slowed to a stop.

A rope ladder fell down the side of the ship, and down climbed two of its occupants. The first, a man, jumped from halfway down the ladder, his leather boots landing heavily in the damp sand. After him, a young woman followed. All four of the knights noticed immediately her beautiful dress and the crown atop her head. She was clearly a princess of this foreign land. The two strangers walked purposefully towards the knights, both of them looking absolutely exhausted. The princess extended her hand toward Deirdre, who was also wearing her crown.

"Are you the Queen of this land?"

Deirdre nodded apprehensively. "Yes. I am the Queen of Kells."

The princess curtsied, keeping eye contact. "My name is Princess Eilidh, of Nayau."

"And why do you come to Kells, Princess Eilidh? It is not every day that we have visitors from Nayau. I believe we do not have an allegiance?"

"No, we do not. Yet. But that is something that I hope to remedy, if you'll accept my request," the princess said, still holding out her hand. Deirdre took it hesitantly. The other Mystic Knights stood behind her with their hands on their weapons, sizing up the man next to Princess Eilidh. He was far bigger than any of them. Angus turned his attention to the princess and decided to speak up.

"Ye still haven't said why you're here." The man shot Angus a glare. "Princess," Angus added hastily, averting his eyes from the man.

The princess smiled, tucking a strand of her curly blonde hair behind her ear. "I come with a request for help," she said, looking at the four knights. "You see, my kingdom has been under attack by a kingdom, Marosia, that was once an ally of ours. They have turned against us, are burning our villages and are holding our people captive. We are a small and peaceful kingdom and keep to ourselves. I wouldn't have come, but we have run out of other options. Surely you understand."

Deirdre looked behind her at the boys, unsure of what to do. Ivar stepped forward and knelt before Princess Eilidh and took her hand.

"My lady, I have heard many things of Marosia. Their King is hungry for power; it has been so for years."

She nodded. "Yes, we have seen that. Might I ask who you are?" Ivar stood.

"I am Prince Ivar. I come from a distant land from here, though I have since become a Mystic Knight for the kingdom of Kells. My friends are Mystic Knights as well."

Princess Eilidh nodded slowly. "I have heard of the Mystic Knights, but I believed them only to be a legend. You have defeated Queen Maeve of Temra, yes?"

"Yes," Ivar said. "It has been five years since then, however."

"It is an honour to meet you all. This is Connell," the princess said, motioning to the man behind her, who was standing with his arms crossed in front of him. He still looked incredibly intimidating. "He may not look it, but he is not a threat to you." The knights looked at Connell and could swear that they saw his mouth switch into a small grin for a second.

Garrett stepped forward and took his hand off of his sword. "I am Prince Garrett of Rheged. I believe my father is acquainted with yours."

"I believe so. I have heard of Rheged, though it was years ago."

Angus reached his hand out to the princess. "My name is Angus. I'm the commander of the Kells army."

Princess Eilidh bit her lip to hold back a smirk and took his hand. "Not a royal?"

Angus sighed. "No."

The Princess then turned her attention to Deirdre. "And you, my Queen?"

"Deirdre. And I am not your Queen."

"I suppose not, though it is common courtesy in my kingdom." She paused. "Do not feel obliged to help us, Your Highness. It was but a request."

Ivar nudged Deirdre in the ribs and gave her a curt nod. Deirdre took a deep breath, making the first decision on the behalf of Kells.

"I will do what I can to help Nayau in these troubled times," Deirdre said with authority. She then smiled. "Welcome to Kells, Princess Eilidh."

…

The sun was starting to set when Angus took his shift to patrol the border by the river. He took a seat beside a tree by the river, leaning back on the trunk. Border patrol had been dull lately, as there had been no intrusions to Kells. In fact, the lack of attacks on the kingdom had made Angus rather bored, and he secretly hoped for some sort of adventure. He let his mind wander, and let the day's thoughts process.

_Nothing happens around here for five years, the all at once, the King dies and this random Princess shows up, wanting to create some sort of alliance. She probably wants us to fight with her. Well, she seems sweet. And she was pretty. Not my type though._

Angus froze at his thoughts. Had he just thought that a girl wasn't his type? He hadn't been able to get the girl from the market place out of his head, which was a first. There was normally no issue jumping from girl to girl, but this one was different. Then something caught his attention just down the riverside.

_Speak of the devil._

The girl was walking towards the shore of the river through the tall grass, carrying a wicker basket. She kicked off her brown sandals and stepped into the shallow water, slightly pulling up her light yellow dress to keep it from getting wet. Sitting down on the grassy riverbank, the girl pulled an apple and a leather-bound book out of the basket and began to read.

From the tree, Angus kept his gaze on her and thought about approaching her. Sure, he was shot down last time, but maybe persistence would work. He decided to go talk to her.

"Hello there," Angus said. He sat down on the riverbank, though a couple feet from the girl. She looked at him and then looked back at her book.

"Hello."

"Ye didn't give me yer name last time we spoke."

"I know."

Angus paused. "Why not?"

"Because I came here to read, not to be interrogated."

He stared at her, not budging an inch, and then finally looked away and then putting his hands on the damp grass behind him, he gazed thoughtfully across the stream. After some time, the girl looked over and raised an eyebrow.

"I take it you're not going anywhere?"

Angus kept looking straight in front of him. "No."

She rolled her eyes and closed her book. "My name is Sinéad."

Angus looked at her and furrowed his brow. "Yer lying."

"No I'm not," she said indignantly, smiling a bit.

"Ye are. I'm an expert on lying. I can tell."

"Fine."

"So?"

She groaned. "Eabha."

Angus smirked. "There ye go." The two sat in silence for a while, thought it seemed slightly less awkward than before.

"Why were ye so anxious to know my name?"

"I don't know. Why were ye so anxious not to tell me?"

"I don't know," she said, looking down. Eabha packed up her things and stood up. The wind had picked up and was blowing her long brown hair and her dress. "I have to go."

Angus stood up as well. "Can I see ye again?"

She turned and started walking towards the village. "Maybe," she said softly, looking at him over her shoulder.

…

Rohan sat in his chamber back at the Temra castle. He was desperately trying to think of some way to fix what had happened with Deirdre, but he just didn't know how. All he wanted was to marry her because he loved her. He decided to write to her.

_Deirdre,_

_I apologize for that happened last night. This talk of marriage for the sole purpose to meld our kingdoms shows no real reasoning._

_There is however, another reason why I want to be married to you, and it has nothing to do with you and I being royalty. I love you, Deirdre, and I always have. The only way that I can see us together is as a married couple; it's been that way for years. I do not want to live my life without you._

_Please understand why I spoke of this subject. It is of the utmost importance, to me at least._

Rohan stopped writing for a moment, not knowing how to sign the letter. Sincerely? Love? Your friend? None of them encompassed what he wanted to say. Instead, Rohan put his head in his hands and stared down at what he had just written. He hated that he had to tell Deirdre of his feelings in a letter, but it was just too hard to say it in person. He sighed. Deirdre deserved to be told in person.

Rohan stood up and crumpled the letter in his right hand. He then threw it in the fire, hoping that one day he could find the courage to tell Deirdre how he felt.

...

Author's Note: Read and Review please! It's so hard to write when you don't know if anyone actually likes it... Please let me know and another chapter will be up soon!


	8. Chapter Seven: Early Mornings

**Chapter Seven – Early Mornings**

Disclaimer: I do not own Mystic Knights, Saban does. I do not have the rights to the characters, settings, past plots, or any of it. The only things I have are my own characters, settings and plots in this story, as well as a love for Irish mythology. Please don't sue me!

…

Princess Eilidh wandered the halls of the Kells castle the morning after her arrival. She couldn't keep her eyes off the beautifully decorated stone walls, comparing them to the similar ones in her home country. The only difference was that Kells was dressed with red, as opposed to deep blue. The castle made the princess miss her home, but she knew that she had business here before she could return.

The princess' nerves were on edge. While she was happy that Queen Deirdre had agreed to form an alliance between Kells and Nayau, Princess Eilidh could not help but feel as though Deirdre was unsure of her decision. This made Eilidh uncomfortable and tense. Despite Deirdre's welcome to Kells, Eilidh was wary of this strange land. She hoped that today might bring her relief.

A bright morning light came in through the castle window, and drew the princess' attention to the outdoors. She paused to look outside at the bustling of street merchants in the distance setting up for the day, their young children running around the courtyard happily. Behind her, Princess Eilidh could hear footsteps approaching; she turned around to see Ivar walking towards her.

"Good morning, Princess," Ivar said, bowing slightly. The princess smiled as Ivar joined her by the window.

"And to you, Prince Ivar. You're up early," she greeted, giving a small curtsy.

"There is much to accomplish before the sun rises."

"I know. There aren't nearly enough hours in a day, especially to those whose lives have great purpose."

Ivar nodded and looked out the window into the courtyard. He was impressed at the wisdom behind the princess' words. The princess sighed and smoothed her velvet dress. She looked at Ivar and clasped her hands together in the front.

"Did you find Kells to be intimidating when you first arrived?"

Ivar gave a small smile. "When I arrived in Kells, I was greeted with lies and deceit. Much has changed since then; I now consider Kells to be my home."

"Lies and deceit?"

"Yes," said Ivar with chuckle, "it truly was a pity that the first man I met here was Angus."

Princess Eilidh raised an eyebrow. "The same Angus whom I met yesterday? He said that he was the commander of the Kells army, a respectable position."

"As I said, Princess, much has changed since then." Ivar paused, and put a steady hand on the shoulder of the doe-eyed princess. "There is no reason for you to be skeptical here, milady. We may come on strong, but believe me, you are welcome in Kells."

"I hope so, Prince Ivar." And with that, she turned and resumed her stroll through the castle, though the tension in her shoulders released a little bit.

…

Having not slept the previous night, Rohan aimlessly paced the Temra throne-room. He was unshaven, exhausted, and thoroughly unimpressed with his marriage proposal to Deirdre.

It was clear to Rohan that his diplomatic appeal to marriage was quite possibly the worst way to explain his feelings. Writing a letter was a close second – if he couldn't tell the woman that he loved about his feelings in person, how could he expect that she would return his love?

Rohan took a seat on the throne and placed his head in his hands. For a warrior and King as powerful as himself, Rohan hated himself for displaying such cowardice.

_Nobody would love a coward._

He couldn't face Deirdre. Not now. Not for a long time.

…

As the sun rose, Prince Garrett found himself leaning against a tree by the lake. Unbeknownst to his friends in Kells, the prince was an early riser and often collected his thoughts before the day truly began. Sometimes his thoughts were of Rheged and his family, other times it was of battles, friendships, or beautiful girls. Today, Garrett's mind was occupied with the arrival of Princess Eilidh on the shores of Kells.

While he had no qualms concerning an alliance formed between Kells and Nayau, Garrett could not get Princess Eilidh's deep hazel eyes out of his head. He found himself lost in those eyes, almost hypnotized.

Those eyes showed the capability of great love and affection, though they remained stony and perceptive. Those eyes made the prince think of home; they were playful and inviting, yet there was a wisdom behind them that showed great confidence and intelligence. Those eyes had silenced him upon their meeting; the prince hadn't even managed to brag about his looks or riches. Those eyes showed all of the qualities that Garrett desired in a woman, not to mention the fact that they were beautiful.

Garrett smiled to himself. He knew that once he snapped out of this hazel-eyed trance, he would win the princess' affections. After all, he was Prince Garrett of Rheged. He had only failed once before, and what were the chances of that happening again?

…

"Mornings shouldn't exist", Angus grumbled as he dragged himself towards the courtyard of the castle. He subconsciously ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up slightly. Today was the day that he was to duel Ciáran – a young soldier with the gall to question his commander's judgment. Angus noticed a gathering giggling maidens by the castle doors, opposite to the group of soldiers at the back of the courtyard, who were all talking amongst themselves and taunting an anxious-looking Ciáran. Upon approaching the courtyard, Angus changed his demeanor from lethargic to authoritative and energetic. As the Captain of the Guard came into view in the courtyard, a hush fell over the posse of soldiers. Angus grinned. He liked being respected for once.

"Well, well, well," said Angus, looking at the soldiers shift uncomfortably in the corner. "I see yer all ready for today's match then?" The men shared wicked glances between one another and pushed Ciáran forward.

"'Ere he is, Commander," one of the soldiers said, with a smirk. "I hope ye don't mind, but some of the maidens of Kells wished to see Ciáran's loss."

Ignoring the maidens to seem aloof, Angus stifled a laugh, grabbed a sword, and took his fighting stance. Ciáran reciprocated and winced slightly. Angus grinned and raised an eyebrow.

"Begin."

Angus lazily fended off Ciáran's feeble advances. Placing one hand on his hip and blocking Ciáran's weak swipes one-handed, Angus decided to have a little fun with the crowd. He yawned elaborately, making the soldiers and maidens howl with laughter, save for Ciáran, whose cheeks blushed. Noticing the blush, Angus decided to help the kid out a bit.

"Don't lose sight of yer goal. Focus!"

"I am!" Ciáran's eyes were drifting to the ground as continued to lose confidence.

"Keep your eyes up."

"I'm trying," Ciáran mumbled as he swung his sword harder, to no avail.

"Try harder!"

Ciáran looked up and the two locked eyes. Stepping forward, Ciáran thrust his sword forward with more skill and confidence than he had previously shown. Angus took this as an opportunity to lose the showoff demeanor and advance on his opponent.

Just when he had Ciáran pinned up against a wall, something in his peripheral vision caught Angus' attention. A few feet from the group of giggling maidens sat a girl with brilliant blue eyes, whose face bore a mixed expression of amusement and challenge. Eabha. Distracted, Angus felt himself being narrowly missed by Ciáran's sword by his waist. He jumped back, staggered, and quietly swore, then regained his balance and breathed a silent sigh. A cocky grin appeared on Ciáran's face. He thrust his sword forward again, this time, Angus actually having to defend himself.

"So that's how ye want to play it, eh?" Angus said, fixing his posture and gazing determinedly at Ciáran. "Fine by me."

After not even ten seconds, Ciáran knew that he was going to be bested by his commander. Angus' skill had improved over the past five years, and he was now a far more confident swordsman, most likely because of his position as Captain of the Guard. After several minutes, Angus had knocked the sword out of Ciáran's hand and the young soldier tripped backwards, falling to the ground. Angus pointed his sword at him and stole a glance at Eabha, who quickly shifted her eyes to the castle wall. Angus hid a grin and looked back at Ciáran. He dropped his sword to the ground beside him.

"Have ye figured out who's boss around these parts?" Angus asked, pointedly. Ciáran bit his lip and nodded. "Good."

As the soldiers were dismissed and the crowd began to thin, Angus winked at Eabha. She in turn rolled her eyes and gave a smile – small, but a smile nonetheless.

…

At the crack of dawn, Deirdre rubbed her eyes. They were dry, despite the tears she had shed the night before. Much like Draganta, Princess Deirdre had also had a sleepless night. Images and words regarding her father, Rohan, and Princess Eilidh flashed through her mind, causing her to toss and turn for hours on end. Disappointed in herself for her lack of control with her emotions, Deirdre closed her eyes tightly and reopened them, hoping to start the day fresh. She sat up in her bed and rolled her shoulders back, the joints grinding from her days of battle. Deirdre longed for those battle days, though at the same time, she dreaded the time they might come again.

After she splashed some cold water on her face, Deirdre focused her attention on a current matter to which she needed to attend – the alliance between Kells and Nayau. Ivar had convinced her that she should accept the alliance, though Deirdre was unsure of where the foreign Princess' loyalties lay. Confused as to whether or not she was right to have accepted the alliance, Deirdre thought back to what her father would have done. She knew that her father would have welcomed Princess Eilidh with open arms. He would have believed that there was no reason not to trust her fully; innocent until proven guilty, so to speak. King Conchobar had led his people to prosperity. His trusting nature had won Kells many allies in the past.

Deirdre then leaned on her bureau, her arms supporting much of her weight, and remembered the words that her father had spoken on his death bed: _You cannot compare your achievements to my own, as we are entirely different people. The way you command Kells will be of your own deciding, and I wish for you to be happy with every decision you make_. Deirdre sighed and slowly raised her head to look straight ahead of her at the stone walls of her bedroom. She had come to a conclusion about this Princess Eilidh.

…

Author's Note: I know, I know, this took an unreasonable amount of time to write. I apologize from the bottom of my heart, and I hope you all enjoy the chapter. The more you review, the faster I write!


	9. Chapter Eight: Thoughts and Visions

**Chapter Eight – Thoughts and Visions**

Disclaimer: I do not own Mystic Knights, Saban does. I do not have the rights to the characters, settings, past plots, or any of it. The only things I have are my own characters, settings and plots in this story, as well as a love for Irish mythology. Please don't sue me!

…

Over the next few days, Queen Deirdre kept to herself. The loss of her father was really taking a toll on her sanity, and she found that talking to her fellow Mystic Knights made her miss the late King even more. What with the recent arrival of Princess Eilidh, Deirdre felt the duties of Queen of Kells thrust upon her, and while she knew that she needed to speak with the princess regarding the peace treaty between Kells and Nayau, she felt that she needed to firstly come to grips with her newfound role as Queen. Her father's passing was on the forefront of Deirdre's mind, and she could hardly think of anything but King Conchobar's death.

In addition to the death of her father, Deirdre found herself thinking about Rohan much of the time. She hadn't heard from him since she told him to leave after his untimely proposal, and she wished that he had stayed despite her insistence to the contrary.

At the same time, Deirdre was still furious at Rohan for his insensitivity. She couldn't believe that he had even thought that requesting a marriage for the good of Kells and Temra was an option. He of all people should have understood exactly how Deirdre felt about marriage. Had he asked her to marry him for love, of course she'd have said yes, only he didn't know that. As far as Rohan was concerned, Deirdre had no feelings for him whatsoever – and Deirdre didn't plan on letting Rohan know how she felt. The fear of rejection was far too strong, and Deirdre felt that she couldn't take Rohan not feeling the same way.

And so, Deirdre sat alone in the castle, her mind flooded with thoughts of her love, her late father, and the new arrival in Kells. Enough was enough; she was going to face at one of these issues head on. Princess Eilidh needed to be gone from Kells.

…

A distorted image of Queen Deirdre filled Rohan's mind, haunting his dreams. The queen was in the Kells throne room with an unfamiliar blonde woman, and the two appeared to be in an argument. Queen Deirdre was pointing towards the door, and the ghost of King Conchobar watched from above, unhappily. Deirdre's shrill voice was heard, repeating the word 'banished' over and over. A dark purple haze spun through the vision and now a different image was present. A new vision of black horses and dark riders now took over. Rohan could hear foreign shouting coming from one of the riders, and the others followed their leader's instructions. Though the voice of the leader seemed unintelligible, the words felt malicious and snake-like. The dark riders drew their swords and accelerated through a forest, cold expressions emerging on their dark faces. The purple haze appeared once again, and Rohan could see the Angus, Ivar, and Garrett standing alone in their Mystic Armour, facing hundreds of the dark riders. One of the dark riders held a dagger to the throat of the blonde woman from earlier in Rohan's dream. Another of the dark riders held the sword of Kells, and a woman's screams were piercing through the vision.

Rohan woke with a start, beads of sweat rolling down his face. He had to warn Deirdre of the enormous mistake she was about to make.

Author's Note: Yeah, it's been years since I updated this. I moved about 5 times since my last update and life has taken a drastic change. However, I'm back into writing and this story will be continuing. I've already planned out and started another chapter, which should be up sometime this week. Read and review please! xo


	10. Chapter Nine: Romance at the Waters Edge

**Chapter Nine – Romance at the Water's Edge**

Disclaimer: I do not own Mystic Knights, Saban does. I do not have the rights to the characters, settings, past plots, or any of it. The only things I have are my own characters, settings and plots in this story, as well as a love for Irish mythology. Please don't sue me!

…

Prince Ivar and Princess Eilidh had found themselves with a lot in common over the past few days. Both were early risers, and soon began to spend each morning at the water's edge deep in conversation. This morning was no different, and the two walked along the river bank discussing their thoughts on where their lives would be in some years' time.

"… of course I am honoured to be a Mystic Knight," Ivar explained, "but I simply cannot imagine being away from my homeland forever."

"You have been away for a long time though, I gather," the princess commented, her blonde curls falling past her shoulders.

"Yes," Ivar sighed, bowing his head. "As I am not the eldest of my brothers, I am not necessarily an heir to the throne of Arabia."

Princess Eilidh tilted her head, sensing Ivar's uneasy tone. "You wish to be?"

"Perhaps."

"You would make a wonderful king, Prince Ivar," the princess smiled.

"That is debatable, Princess." Princess Eilidh again cocked her head to the side with a quizzical look. Ivar continued, "Most do think me wise, however I have no thirst for power. While I could solve many matters concerning strategy, I fear that I would not achieve greatness. Men such as myself are often simply regarded as wise, though great kings bring wealth and peace to their kingdoms in other manners."

"Good decisions are often tactical, which are made by wise men."

"Well your highness, it is unlikely that I will ever find out."

"It really is too bad, you would do great things," Eilidh said. "Do you suppose your brother will bring wealth and peace as you would hope to?"

Ivar's face hardened as he thought of how to answer the princess' question. "Perhaps."

Both Ivar and Eilidh turned as they heard their names being called by Garrett, who was approaching with a cocky grin. The blond prince reached the two royals at the water's edge and nodded at Ivar, acknowledging his presence. He then turned to Princess Eilidh, his gaze suddenly turning more charming as he bowed deeply.

"Good morning, Princess," he started, "I see you are up early!"

"There is much to accomplish before the sun rises," Eilidh commented, shifting her gaze to Ivar and smiling slightly. She recalled their first conversation at sunrise and rather appreciated his phrase. Ivar returned the knowing grin, leaving Prince Garrett out of the loop. The cocky prince did not appear phased, however, as he continued speaking to Princess Eilidh.

"I am an early riser myself," he said, turning to block Prince Ivar out of view of the princess, "I find the dawn a perfect time to gather my thoughts."

"Oh?"

"I find myself calmed in the early morning. You see, I live a very taxing life as the heir to the throne of Rheged, and it is very easy to be bogged down by thoughts of my kingdom. When my father should cease to be King, Rheged will be in my command, and I must always be on my toes."

"Of course, Prince Garrett," Eilidh replied understandingly, "in due time, Nayau will need a new Queen, and that duty would fall unto me."

"It shall, yes. You are lucky, Princess, Nayau is but a small island to the north, while Rheged is large and powerful," Garrett bragged, "fortunately I am strong enough of a man to take control of such an important kingdom in these Celtic lands. My nation has alliances with many smaller kingdoms such as your own. Perhaps you would like to join me to discuss our alliance further?"

Princess Eilidh looked at the bothered-looking Ivar and back at the arrogant prince of Rheged. "Prince Ivar is in line for the throne of Arabia, perhaps he would like to join us?" Ivar opened his mouth, about to accept when Garrett interrupted,

"I believe the Prince had some business to attend to at the castle," he said pointedly, looking at Ivar, and motioning him to leave he and the princess alone, "you could join us another time, perhaps?" Ivar bit his tongue and elegantly turned towards the castle to leave.

"Perhaps."

…

Angus hadn't seen Eabha since the match between Ciáran and himself, and not for lack of trying. He had spent his days stalking through the marketplace and trailing the river's edge in hopes of finding this captivating girl again. So far though, no luck; it was as if she had just vanished from Kells altogether. Needless to say, he was becoming frustrated as he once again loitered around the riverbank.

_She's got to be somewhere. People don't just disappear, there's always a reason. Well, except with Maeve, and I guess magical creatures, but Eabha isn't magical. Well, I don't know. What if she is? No. I'm being stupid like Garrett says and I'm not stupid. She's got to be around here somewhere._

As if his thoughts finally came to life, Angus looked up and saw her sitting by the river with her sandals kicked off, reading a book. She wasn't alone though, which made Angus uneasy. He approached, desperately hoping it was a female with her. His heart sank as he got closer and saw a boy a bit younger than himself with her. He caught a glimpse of the young man's face, and recognized him.

"Ciáran?"

Both Ciáran and Eabha looked up and to their left, into the eyes of Kells' Captain of the Guard. Ciáran jumped up to attention, looking frightened, and nodded his head into a small bow.

"Commander!" Angus grinned at the kid; even if he had taken his girl, he liked the respect.

Eabha rolled her eyes and turned her head to Ciáran. "Calm down Ciáran, it's not like he's a prince or anything." She turned back to Angus, the corners of her mouth twitching to a grin as Angus' face turned sour. "Besides, he almost lost to you at the match, and if he had trained his troops to fight properly, you'd have won," Eabha smirked, her sparkling blue eyes still starting into Angus' further souring face. Ciáran looked mortified and didn't know who to look at any longer. Eabha focused her gaze on Ciáran and motioned back to the village, "I'll be heading back to the village in a bit, Ciáran, I'll see you back there." Ciáran took the hint and stood to leave. He again nodded worriedly at Angus and took off towards the village.

"That was one of my troops ye just had lose respect for me!" Angus snapped, once Ciáran was out of earshot.

"He's fully capable of choosing who he does and does not respect," Eabha responded calmly, turning back to her book. "Ciáran doesn't act only to please others, unlike you."

"If he's so great then, why don't ye go back after him?"

"Believe me, I would, but little brothers get so annoying sometimes," she said, shifting her eyes to meet Angus'. Angus paused and looked from the retreating figure of Ciáran back to Eabha.

"The kid's yer brother?"

"Why else would I have gone to the match the other day?" Angus pursed his lips and nodded to himself, looking away from Eabha. He dejectedly turned to leave, when she cut him off. "Where are you going?"

"The village."

"You're just going to give up that easily? Honestly Angus, I thought you had more fight in you," Eabha said with a grin. Angus looked back at her, confused.

"I know a lost cause when I see one. I'm not stupid."

"You're only stupid if you walk away from something you want."

Angus blinked then approached Eabha and sat down next to her. He stared at her face, studying her blue eyes, long brown hair, perfect lips, and porcelain skin.

"Did ye really go to the match just to watch yer brother?" he asked, one eyebrow raised. Eabha smirked and slowly shook her head from side to side. Angus grinned as he reached his hand to touch her hair and pulled her in so that their lips touched in a soft kiss.

Eabha bit her lower lip, toothlessly smiling after she pulled away. "I have to go."

"Stay," Angus pleaded hopefully.

"I'm sorry, I have to go," she said as she stood up and smoothed out the creases in her pale yellow dress.

"Meet me here tomorrow," Angus called out, "at sunset! Please?"

Eabha looked back and cocked and eyebrow with a mischievous grin, and lowered herself into a deep curtsy. "It has been lovely seeing you, Angus, Commander of Kells." And with that she turned and walked towards the village, sighing and wondering what she had gotten herself into.

Angus watched her go, hoping that she'd show up the next evening – he knew he'd be there.


End file.
